


The Road Not Taken

by pied_pollo



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Alex Blake Deserves a Hug, Bittersweet Ending, Character Study, Child Death, Episode: s09e24 Demons, Gapfill, Gen, Gunshot Wounds, Hurt Spencer Reid, Introspection, Minor Character Death, Mother-Son Relationship, Sad Alex Blake, Scene Breakdown, and more fics, well not literally but emotionally
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-17
Updated: 2020-06-17
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:47:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24763351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pied_pollo/pseuds/pied_pollo
Summary: After Ethan died, Alex stopped filling out crossword puzzles for two months, because the only phrase that mattered was one she didn’t know.
Comments: 22
Kudos: 101





	The Road Not Taken

**Author's Note:**

  * For [themetaphorgirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/themetaphorgirl/gifts).



The altitude dipped, rocking the jet with light turbulence. Alex swayed in her seat and peered out the window, watching the sun slide down towards the horizon, leaving mango and violet streaks in its wake. She rested her chin in her hand and glanced over at Spencer, who was sprawled on the couch jet, Garcia’s blanket draped over him. The only sign that he was alive was the occasional soft snore, but otherwise he looked _still_ , and it felt unnatural.

_He was still, too, her son, on that day. Like now, the sky was growing dark, edging towards twilight, and like now, Ethan lay supine on the bed, so pale and grey he almost blended into the bed sheets. His eyes were dull with exhaustion, and a slight blush painted his face from the fever. He looked nothing like he had a month ago, yet he still maintained a wispy mane underneath the neat bandages and his long fingers sought her out, just like they always did. James always said he looked like her, but Alex could never see it._

She could see it in Spencer, though, in the bridge of his nose and soft curve of his lips. He looked placid, too placid, and a brief flutter of panic rose in her chest when she didn’t see the blanket rise after he exhaled. She wondered if she should alert everyone, because maybe something was wrong and maybe Spencer was actually dying in his sleep and she would never forgive herself if he--

Spencer inhaled. Alex relaxed and blinked back tears she hadn’t realized come to her eyes. She exhaled shakily and leaned against the wall, squeezing her eyes shut and wringing her hands anxiously.

_He was ready to go. The last of the fight had drained out of him hours ago, and now Alex took the oximeter from his finger and rolled the IV pole to the side. She climbed onto the bed next to him and he gripped her arm weakly._

_“Why are you sad?” he whispered, confusion furrowing his brow, and Alex couldn’t help but chuckle, because he was always looking out for her, even now as he lay dying._

_“I’m not sad,” she lied. She pressed her lips to his forehead and he wrapped his arms around her._

_“Please?” he murmured, and Alex didn’t have to ask what he was talking about. She stroked his face, brushed his bangs from his eyes, and spoke softly:_

_“Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, / And sorry I could not travel both / And be one traveler, long I stood / And looked down one as far I could / To where it bent in the undergrowth._ ”

Tears pricked her eyes, threatening to spill over, and Alex brought a shaky hand up to wipe them away. She shifted her head to look back at Spencer, who had turned over onto his other side. He was facing her now, his eyelids flickering in his sleep, the white bandage on his neck visible under his collar.

_In the last few days, Ethan couldn’t sleep. He had been too racked with pain, and it killed Alex to see him chewing on his lip and shuddering when he thought no one could see. At night, he would crawl deep into the covers and feign sleep so Alex didn’t worry about him, and for his sake, she played along._

_But now, as the rest of the poem started to wind down, Ethan’s body melted against hers. He burrowed his face in the crook of her neck and sighed softly, snuggling deeper. If she closed her eyes, Alex could almost pretend they were home._

The jet landed with a soft bump, and the rest of the team stirred in their seats. One by one, they yawned and stretched, gathering their belongings and folding blankets. JJ scooted out of her chair and walked across the aisle to sit next to Alex.

“I know,” JJ whispered before Alex could speak. “You don’t have to explain.” She placed her duffel in her lap and tracked Alex’s gaze to Spencer. “You were right,” she added, “he’s too young.”

Alex nodded. “He needs someone to look out for him,” she murmured, “when I’m gone.”

“Don’t worry,” JJ assured her, “I’ll be there.”

“Thank you.”

JJ placed her hand on Alex’s. “Of course.” Then, after a moment, she stood up and slung her bag over her shoulder, walking towards the front of the jet. Near the door, Hotch was watching Alex, his eyes soft. He gave her a small nod before leaving the plane as well.

Alex unclipped her seat belt and took her bag off the floor, creeping over to crouch in front of Spencer, who hadn’t stirred. She brushed his bangs out of his eyes and gingerly ran her hand up and down his shoulder.

Spencer didn’t rouse, and the nervous heart palpitations returned. Alex gripped his shoulder harder and gave him a tiny shake. “Spencer,” she whispered. “Open your eyes.”

_That’s what she said the next morning, when she woke up and Ethan didn’t. “Open your eyes.” It was futile, she knew, but an irrational part of her hoped that maybe he would blink and things would be okay for a moment longer. But when he didn’t open his eyes again, Alex knew that moment had already gone by._

Spencer’s eyes fluttered open, cloudy and confused from pain medication. He let out a small hum and Alex smiled.

“Hey, kiddo,” she said softly. “We’ve landed. I’m going to take you home.”

“‘Kay,” Spencer mumbled. He shifted on the couch and Alex helped him sit up, holding him steady and murmuring gentle words of encouragement. After a moment, Spencer nodded, and Alex gripped his biceps and raised him to a standing position.

“Careful,” she warned, releasing his arms to grab his bag from the floor. They were the only ones left on the jet, and outside, the sky had darkened to an inky purple. The only illumination came from the fluorescent glow of the overhead lights.

When she had ensured Spencer wasn’t about to immediately keel over, she slid an arm around his shoulders and led him off the jet, walking slowly. On the tarmac, the rest of the team was waiting patiently by the cars. JJ motioned for Alex to come with her, pulling the passenger door open and ushering a still-groggy Spencer into the back seat. Alex got in after him, and JJ closed the door.

_The car ride home was silent and tearless. James drove, hunched over the steering wheel, while Alex pressed her forehead against the passenger seat window, rubbing her hand over the stack of grief management brochures a nurse had given her. Neither of them had enough energy to speak--and what was there to say anyway?_

Spencer bobbed in rhythm with the car, and Alex guided his head to rest on her shoulder. They re-entered civilization, the orange glow of street lamps cutting through the darkness. If she didn’t focus, the lights blurred together to form a streak of gold rushing past the window, alongside the car.

“It’s gonna be okay,” JJ said softly, keeping her eyes on the road.

“I know,” Alex sighed. “But still.”

“Yeah.”

_The funeral was short. James only had his parents and his sister’s family, and Alex’s side was just as small. There wasn’t any fancy procession or wake; the Blakes and the Millers met at the cemetery, icy wind whipping their hair and drowning out the priest’s words. Each of them said something about Ethan being the light in their life and God gained an angel this night, and it was almost funny because neither family was very religious, but somehow it seemed like what one has to say in this situation._

The car rolled to a stop. Spencer took his head off Alex’s shoulder and gave her a sleepy smile before tipping sideways into the car door. His head hit the window with a small _thud_ , and JJ couldn’t suppress the giggle of amusement that bubbled out of her throat. “You got him?” she asked.

“Yeah,” Alex replied, taking Spencer by the shoulder and leaning over him to open the door. “I’ll take him in.”

“Do you want me to wait?”

“No, it’s fine. I’ll call a taxi.”

“It’s really no problem. Your house is on the way to mine.”

“No, I’m alright. Thank you, Jennifer.”

JJ smiled and Alex led Spencer inside. She handed him his keys and they made their way carefully up the stairs. When he stumbled, Alex furrowed her brow in concern. “You sure you’re okay?”

“I feel great,” Spencer assured her, then faltered. “Ah, that's overselling it. I feel great considering I just got shot in the neck.”

They walked into the apartment, and Alex set Spencer’s bag on the couch, but not before slipping her badge in the front pocket. Spencer’s place was small and cluttered, but comfortable. The first thing Alex noticed were the books--stacked neatly in the corner, filling the shelves, sprawled across the coffee table. Spencer closed the door behind him.

“Okay,” Alex said, clutching her bag with two hands. “You should get some sleep.”

Spencer nodded, but his eyes crinkled with concern. “You all right?”

Alex waved her hand as if dusting away the stabbing fear that had been inhabiting her chest the past 48 hours. “Yesterday...touched a nerve. When I saw you like that.”

Spencer looked down, hesitated, then asked: “Who’s Ethan?”

Alex sucked in a small breath. He remembered--of course he did.

She hadn’t told anyone on the team about Ethan, but she had a nagging feeling they suspected something. It felt private and almost wrong to talk about it, but now, after recent events, she wanted Ethan back so desperately that the words jumped out of her throat: “My son.”

Spencer raised his eyebrows in surprise. 

“He was nine when he died,” Alex explained softly. “Doctors said it was neurological, but they didn’t have a name for it--still don’t,” she added, her voice cracking a little bit. “That drove me crazy--no word to put to this thing that took away my greatest love.”

_She asked them if they checked for everything--meningitis, multiple sclerosis, juvenile dementia--but they had nothing. All they could tell her was that Ethan’s brain cells were sparking like an open wire, his nervous system was breaking down at an alarming rate with every flareup. And after he died, Alex stopped filling out crossword puzzles for two months, because the only phrase that mattered was one she didn’t know._

“I’m sorry,” Spencer whispered.

“He kept growing, despite his disease,” Alex continued. “The last time I lay beside him, he was almost as long as me.” Her eyes stung, but the tears didn’t fall. “He was ready to go...but I wasn’t ready to say goodbye. I begged him to open his eyes.”

Spencer almost looked guilty for stirring up these memories, and he shifted his stance, eyes at the ground. Alex pressed her lips together and took in a deep breath before blurting out something she hadn’t told anyone--not the counselors, not James, not the doctors. It was the thing that hurt the most and couldn’t be healed, and she almost felt selfish saying it out loud: “The cruelest part was that I could see who he’d be at twenty, but I knew he’d never get there.”

Spencer rocked awkwardly, unsure of what to say. Finally, he managed: “Ethan’s a great name.”

Alex smiled. “Yeah. It means ‘enduring’.”

“It makes sense. You and James never let go of each other.”

She had never thought of it that way before. Alex shook her head in disbelief because she really saw it now, the resemblance, and suddenly she realized she found closure in this young man she had almost lost and it filled her with gratitude, because in a way she was able to see her son get to twenty after all.

She turned to go, but Spencer spoke up, his words choppy and unsure: “Have you ever had the feeling that your future is somehow behind you?”

“All the time.”

“I did, too,” Spencer said, moving his gaze from where it had previously been trained on the ground to Alex’s eyes. “But it isn’t.”

He knew this was goodbye. Of course he did. 

They both did.

“Ethan would’ve been a lot like you,” Alex remarked wistfully.

“Thank you for being there when I woke up. That meant a lot.”

“Of course.”

Alex turned on her heel and left the apartment, the wooden floor creaking quietly underneath her feet. When she glanced back, Spencer gave a little wave. His voice was small and soft: “Bye, Alex.”

And Alex didn’t say goodbye back because she couldn’t speak around the desolation clogging her throat, but Spencer gave a little nod, and she knew he understood.

**Author's Note:**

> "We must be willing to give up the life we had planned so as to have the life that is waiting for us." -Joseph Campbell. 
> 
> Well, I planned to write a chapter on my Prodigal Son work, but thanks to redbullandcupcakebatter's tumblr page I realized what I truly needed was more Alex Blake fics so I'd say I'm living up to Campbell's expectations.


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